The Dark Lord's Ring
by snarryvader81
Summary: When Harry Potter finds a strange ring tucked away in a desk drawer, it seems innocent enough. However, when it proves to have a mind of its own, Harry soon discovers everything is not as it seems. LotR HP Crossover
1. Prologue

Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of the rubble of what had once been Godric's Hollow.

His red eyes were sparking with anger and an uncharacteristic panic.

It wasn't here. It was gone.

_Curse his stupidity_!! First, like a bloody Gryffindor, he hunts down the Potters without thinking of the consequences – their brat was the prophecy child after all. He was too caught up in the moment and, in his foolish rush to end the boy's life, made the very thing that that fraud of a seer had predicted come to pass.

But even then . . . he might have kept his body – not have been as harmed by the curse – if only he wouldn't have taken it off!

_His precious . . ._

But now, practically fifteen years later, the ruins of Godric's Hollow remained but his precious was gone.

He'd spent the better part of the day looking for it, scanning every inch of the debris with both his eyes and his magic.

His precious was no where to be found.

A rage began to swell inside the Dark Lord.

His precious was gone.

Birds quickly departed from their perches on nearby trees. Things began to shake and rattle and move. The ground started to quake.

_How dare someone take his precious_?

The rubble began to explode. The Earth shook more and more violently. Voldemort let out an inhuman howl – a noise filled with the utmost malevolence and anger and despair.

_Someone had stolen It!!_

The Dark Lord fell to the ground, frantically tearing at the grass and the dirt beneath him, still howling and screaming.

Breathing heavily, Voldemort eventually collapsed, finally silent. All around him was eerily still.

The silence was broken after many minutes by high, cold, _insane_ laughter. "I – I _will_ find you, _my precioussss_ . . ." Voldemort hissed out. "You want to come back to your master, don't you, _preciousss_? We will be reunited . . ."

Voldemort's laughter continued long into the night.

* * *

**Author's Note:** As of right now (and it's past 2:00 AM, by the way, so if there are any glaring errors with grammar or spelling that is probably why) I have some grasp of where I'm going with the story, but nothing is very solid as of yet. Just to warn you, it will probably be slash. I don't think I'm going to have any pairings on the Harry Potter side of things, but when the idea hit me a few days ago the pairing in my head was Aragorn/Frodo. The Lord of the Rings characters aren't going to show up for a few chapters (I don't think) but if that particular pairing or slash in general bothers you, you probably shouldn't read any further. 

Other than that, this is the first Lord of the Rings story I have ever written. I really should watch all the movies again and read the books, which I am planning on doing pretty soon. I have the next chapter practically written, though, so it should be up very soon.

And I've begun to babble on and on. I need to sleep, I think.

Hope you enjoy it!!!

-Snarryvader81 (aka Anna Elizabeth)


	2. A Plain Gold Ring

The atmosphere of Grimmauld Place was heavy and depressing. Harry Potter wished he would've never come. Sirius was dead – he really should've just locked the place up and not given it anymore thought, as it was too painful. He probably would've been better off to give the deed to Dumbledore, maybe, so they could use it for Order meetings, or possibly magic combined with the Black family's will would ensure that Bellatrix Lestrange ended up in possession of the run down old mansion.

But so far, Bella showed no interest in her cousin's house, and Harry hadn't had the heart to give the place away.

But really, he shouldn't be in the house. Yes, yes – he supposed it was a rather good idea to pack up some of Sirius' things, just in case Bellatrix did suddenly invoke some kind of long-ago-cast spell which would give her ownership of the house.

Just being in the building, though, made Harry feel dark and depressed. Remus Lupin was there with him, but the werewolf had wandered off into some other room, leaving the teenager alone.

Harry swallowed hard, forcing himself to pile some more of Sirius' things into a box. From what he could conclude by walking through the house, his godfather hadn't had a particular bedroom (not one that the teenager could find, anyway), so Harry had just decided to start looking around downstairs for things to box up. He'd already been in the living room and some kind of parlor, and finally he'd made his way into the library.

Harry decided the books weren't worth taking with him, as they weren't really Sirius'. They belonged to him, yes, but they were more the Black Family's than his. He'd gathered up some pieces of clothing and a few other menial things until the library was practically bare.

Glancing around, Harry zeroed in on a small desk in the corner of the room which had a drawer he hadn't opened.

Abandoning his spot by the sofa, he strode over to the wooden desk and pulled the drawer open by its brass handle. There didn't seem to be anything inside it.

"Harry? We'll have to be leaving soon!" Remus' voice drifted into the room.

"I'm coming, Remus!" Harry replied. He looked back down at the empty drawer and moved to close it, but a glint of gold in the very back of the drawer caught his attention.

Slowly, Harry reached into the drawer and felt around, his hand finally resting over top of something smooth and cool. He grasped it and pulled it out of the drawer and into view.

Harry narrowed his eyes. It was a ring.

It wasn't like an engagement ring or a decorative ring – there were no jewels or precious stones encrusted on the top of the band. It was just a plain, gold ring.

Standing there, staring at it, Harry was struck with the thought that it was the most beautiful, most _alluring, _thing he had ever seen.

_Yes, yes. My love, my preciousss . . ._

"Harry! We've got to go!"

Harry's eyes darted from the ring. He shook his head and blinked his eyes. _Precious_? Did he just call a ring his _precious_?

He really hadn't been sleeping enough. His thoughts were running wild.

Quickly walking back over to the sofa, Harry stuffed the ring in the bottom of the box.

"Harry?" Remus' head appeared in the doorway. "Ready to go?"

"Yes – yes, of course."

Remus stared at him for a moment, his face concerned. "Something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong." Harry picked up the box and made for the door. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I haven't read Harry Potter in a long time, so I'm not sure about a lot of the details involving Grimmauld Place, so if I made any big errors that's why. Let me apologize in advance.

Anyway, thank you for your reviews and for everyone who took time to read the story.

-Snarryvader81 (aka Anna)


	3. A Shadow World

"_Where is it?" _

_An old man, dressed in gray from head to toe and looking every inch the muggle stereotype of a wizard, stood, half-crouching, by a crackling fire. He gazed down at a much shorter man, who, at first glance, could be mistaken for a child. At closer inspection, however, it became clear that he was not a child at all. His hair was graying and his skin was showing signs of wrinkling – he looked rather like a miniature, well preserved, old man._

"_In an envelope, if you must know," the smaller man said impatiently. "There on the mantelpiece."_

_The tall man immediately turned to the shelf over the fireplace, reaching out a hand to pick up this envelope, but the shorter man suddenly began talking again._

"_Well, no! Here it is in my pocket." He hesitated. "Isn't that odd now?" he murmured softly to himself. "Yet after all, why not?" He stared intently down at the plain, gold band in his hands. "Why shouldn't I keep it?" _

_The tall man looked very hard at his shorter counterpart, a gleam in his eyes. "I think, Bilbo," he said quietly, "You should leave it behind. Is that so hard?"_

_The small man – Bilbo – tore his gaze away from the ring to look at the tall man for a split second before quickly moving his eyes back to stare at the piece of jewelry. "Well no – and yes. I don't really see why I should," he said. His voice had taken on a sharp tone, one filled with suspicion and annoyance. "Why do you want me to? You are always badgering me about my ring, but you have never bothered me about the other things I got on my journey." _

"_No, but I had to badger you," the tall man said. "I wanted the truth. It was important. Magic rings are – well, magical; and they are rare and curious. I was professionally interested in your ring, you may say, and I still am. And I think you've had that ring quite long enough."_

_Bilbo flushed, an angry light glinting in his eyes. His kindly face grew hard. "What business is it of yours what I do with my own things?! It is my own! I found it, it came to me!" Bilbo's voice had become harsh and he bit out each word furiously._

_The tall man looked taken aback. "There's no need to get angry."_

"_If I am it's your fault!" Bilbo snapped. "It is mine, I tell you! My own." He smiled lovingly down at the ring, a deranged glint in his eyes. "My precious."_

Harry's eyes snapped open. Wearily, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around. All the other boys in the dark dorm were sound asleep. Ron was snoring loudly.

Harry shivered involuntarily. He felt more tired than he had before he went to bed. He supposed he should be thankful that for once his dreams had nothing to do with Voldemort, but for some reason this dream seemed to disturb him more than any nightmare involving the Dark Lord ever could.

Why would he suddenly dream about a tall man in a gray pointed hat and a short, jauntily dressed man who were arguing over a ring?

Harry's eyes widened. _A ring_.

What had the small man – Bilbo – called the ring?

_My precious_.

Harry shivered again as Bilbo's eerie hiss echoed through his mind. Why would anyone call a ring their _precious_? It didn't make sense.

And what made even less sense was why he suddenly had the compulsion to check on the ring. He knew it was safe in his trunk. It had been there ever since he'd found it at Grimmauld Place over the summer. But yet, he had to make sure. He had to know it was still there – _still his_.

After putting his glasses on, Harry quietly slipped out of bed and crouched down by his trunk. He slowly lifted the lid back and reached down, moving some clothing out of the way. Finally, he could see the golden band.

Wasting no time, he snatched it into his hands and shut the trunk, climbing back onto the bed.

Almost reverently, he cupped both his hands together and positioned the ring in the middle of the surface they made. With wide eyes he studied the ring, memorizing every detail of it – its exact color, its size, the way the small amount of the light in the room glinted off its flawless surface.

_Put it on,_ a little voice in the back of his mind hissed.

"I – I shouldn't," Harry whispered aloud, still staring down at the ring.

_Why not? _the voice asked. _Why not put it on? It's just a little ring. What harm could it do?_

Harry shook his head. "But I don't know what it might do. It might be cursed."

_Put me on, Harry. I'm just a harmless little ring. No bad could come of it. Put me on!_

"Yes – yes – It's just a little ring. What bad could come of it?" asked Harry dreamily. Almost as if in a trance, he lightly took hold of the ring with the fingers of his left hand and held up his right one. Closing his eyes, he carefully slipped the gold band on, relishing in the feeling of the cool metal as it slid against his skin.

It was the best sensation in the world, wearing the ring. Harry felt like all his dreams had come true. He had the power to do _anything_. Voldemort was just a speck, a parasite. The Dursleys had no control over him at all. Severus Snape was a petty little man who didn't matter at all in the scheme of things. Draco Malfoy was _nothing_ compared to him. And Harry – Harry himself felt like he had all the power in the world. He was_ special – _he was the Boy-Who-Lived. He could _rule_ the world if he wanted to.

Finally opening his eyes, Harry almost jumped five feet off the bed.

The world around him didn't look like it normally did. Everything was gray and shadowy – it seemed to be a skewed reflection of what it once was. The room suddenly seemed vague and distant and surreal. His vision, even though his glasses were on, was diminished and rather unclear, yet his hearing had suddenly become so well-developed that he could make out each individual heartbeat of all of his dorm mates. He felt oddly on display, as if a hundred pairs of eyes were focused directly on him.

Harry took off his glasses to see if his vision would change – it didn't. It became no better nor worse. The world still remained gray and shadowy.

But, upon looking down into his glasses' lenses, he received another shock.

He didn't have a reflection.

He was invisible.

And his invisibility cloak was, at the moment, safely tucked away in his truck.

Jumping up, Harry ran to the nearest – and only – mirror in the sixth year Gryffindor boys' dorm.

He still had no reflection.

Harry reached out and ran his fingers down the length of the mirror. The oil on his skin left marks on the glass, but his hand did not appear.

Harry stared down at the heavy gold ring in awe. Glancing back up at the mirror, he slowly pulled the piece of jewelry off his finger.

Right before his eyes, the world reverted back to it's normal state and his reflection appeared in the mirror.

"Bloody hell," he muttered quietly, still staring fixedly at the ring. "I never knew there was such a thing as a magical ring . . ."

Harry finally forced himself to return to his bed. He eventually managed to fall asleep, his hand clenched tightly around the heavy gold ring.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Harry's dream in the beginning of the chapter (Bilbo and Gandalf's dialogue) is taken both from the book and the movie (it's a blend of both). Might as well disclaim it right now: 

I own nothing.

There we go. That should ward off all of those angry lawyers. As for the rest of the chapter, I wasn't really sure what it felt like to actually wear the ring so I tried to describe it to the best of my ability (hey, there has to be something great about it, since everyone seems to be tripping over themselves to get their hands on the damn thing)

I have no idea what I'm going to do for the next chapter . . . Frodo might make an appearance, maybe . . . maybe . . . er . . . As I said, I'm not sure. Anyway, thanks to you all for reading and reviewing! I love your feedback.

-Snarryvader81 (aka Anna)


	4. The Ring's Temptations

_**Se·duce – **__1)_ _To lead astray, as from duty, rectitude, or the like; corrupt_

_2) To lead or draw away, as from principles, faith, or allegiance_

_3) To win over; attract; entice_

_**Tempt – **__1)_ _To entice or allure to do something often regarded as unwise, wrong, or immoral_

_2)_ _To attract, appeal strongly to, or invite_

_3) To render strongly disposed to do something_

_4) To put (someone) to the test in a venturesome way; provoke_

_5)__To __try or test._

"_I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is the victory over self." – Aristotle_

"_Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell." – Unknown_

* * *

The Ring had become a prized possession of Harry Potter's, ever since that night he put it on. He always wore it around his neck, relishing in the weight of it against his chest. He didn't even need his invisibility cloak anymore, as all he had to do was slip on the Ring. Mrs. Norris couldn't even see him when he was wearing it!

But, while it might've appeared as a good thing, the Ring had a much darker history than Harry could've ever imagined. Every single day he held it, touched it, wore it, he was becoming more and more possessive, more and more obsessed with it.

You see, while Harry Potter is a great man, a pure man at heart, he was only that – a man. And the hearts of men are easily corrupted.

And there was, after all, a reason that Harry Potter was almost sorted into Slytherin House.

While not extremely ambitious, he had goals – goals that Harry, deep down, felt as though he could not accomplish. Lord Voldemort was more than three times his age, much more experienced, and oh-so powerful. How could a teenager who had only been studying magic for six years ever hope to defeat him?

But yet, Harry felt as though he had to at least try– he saw no way out. That didn't stop him from, in his heart, believing he wouldn't survive the Final Battle.

When Harry wore the Ring, though, his thoughts began to change.

Why couldn't he defeat Voldemort? Was the man _that_ powerful? He was only a halfblood – in fact, he and Harry were quite alike. Very much so. Harry could almost see himself in the Dark Lord's place. Now that he came to think about it, why _was_ he on the light side? Because Dumbledore told him he was? Harry wasn't fond of muggles at all – he hated most of the ones he'd ever met. Why was he willing to risk his life to save them? Was Dumbledore just using him as a tool against Voldemort? Had he brainwashed him into thinking like he did? Were Dumbledore and the Order holding him back? He could be _so_ much more powerful without them, couldn't he? . . .

Not that Harry was the only one affected by the Ring, though. Far from it. Many of his classmates and a few of his teachers were very ambitious as well, with hidden desires and desperate wants that made them easy prey for something so seductive and tempting as the Ring.

When the Ring called Ronald Weasley's name, he heard promises of recognition and fame, things that would set him apart from his many brothers.

When Hermione Granger's name was hissed, she was promised infinite knowledge and wisdom.

When Draco Malfoy caught his glimpse of the Ring hanging around Potter's neck, his pretty blond head was filled with fantasies of freedom from his father and triumph over his enemies.

When Ginny Weasley heard her name being whispered in the back of her mind, she could so clearly see herself married to Harry Potter she thought for a moment it was reality.

When Colin Creevey snapped a photo of Harry, just catching a glint of metal in the picture, he heard promises of a career as a famous photographer.

When Rubeus Hagrid caught himself preoccupied with staring at Harry's clunky new ring, visions of revenge on Tom Marvolo Riddle were still dancing in his head.

Filius Flitwick's name was sibilantly called, accompanied by a tantalizing image of himself – the height of an average human.

There were many more people who heard the Ring's call, many, many more, all over the school. From a few of the little weak-willed first years who were too young to have any ambition or wish other than to make their parents proud, to Lucius Malfoy, who was sent to the school by the Board of Governors, only to find his silver eyes unfocussed as he saw himself sitting in his dark Master's Throne.

But, the Ring's call could only be resisted for so long . . .

"Mister Potter!!!"

Severus Snape's sharp hiss brought Harry's attention back to class. The black eyed Professor smirked meanly, taking great pleasure in having caught Harry off guard.

"Answer the question, Mister Potter," Severus demanded.

Harry stuttered for a moment, desperately looking around the room for some clue as to what the question had been.

"I – I, uh – I don't know, Sir."

Severus's humorless smile was toothy. "Twenty points from—"

_Severus . . ._

Severus paused. "Twenty points—"

_Severus . . . I can give you what you want . . . I know what you desire . . . It will be yours . . . _

Severus's mouth was strangely dry and his eyes unfocussed.

_Redemption, Severus . . . Redemption for all the sins you've committed, the people you've killed and tortured . . . Forgiveness . . . Severus . . . Severus Snape . . . Professor Snape . . ._

"—Professor Snape?!"

Severus snapped his eyes over to Draco Malfoy, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"Are – are you all right, Sir?" Draco asked cautiously.

Severus blinked his eyes several times. "Of course I'm all right, Mister Malfoy." He turned back to Harry. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for not paying attention. Now, everyone get their ingredients."

No one moved. Most of the class was still staring at their Professor as if he might've finally lost it.

"NOW!" Snape shouted.

The class all bolted up from their seats at the same time, scurrying in the direction of the ingredients.

Harry carefully gathered up the moonstone that he needed and was about to grab a few unicorn hairs, but Ronald Weasley's dreamy voice stopped him.

"Beautiful ring, Harry," he said, his eyes intently staring at the gold band.

"Yeah," Harry replied warily.

Before Harry could react, Ron's had darted out and grabbed the ring.

"Thief!!" Harry shrieked, pulling on the chain. Ron pulled back.

"What are you guys doing?" Hermione hissed. "Do you want Professor Snape to take more points?"

"Traitor! Bloody, no good thief!" Harry ranted, gripping the chain. "It's mine!"

"I want it!" Ron shouted, pulling with all his might. The chain snapped, sending Harry and Ron flying into each other.

Harry groped wildly for the Ring, finally resorting to jabbing Ron in the eye to distract him. The redhead balled his hand into a fist and hit Harry squarely in the jaw. Momentarily stunned, Harry finally retaliated with a sharp kick in the shin, but froze when he heard the sound of something metal swiftly sliding across the stone floor.

Realizing he must've accidentally hit it with his foot, Harry frantically pulled himself to his feet, spinning around, only to be met with the sight of Severus Snape straightening back up, holding the ends of the chain together and staring suspiciously at the dangling ring.

"Headmaster's Office," he commanded. "Now."

* * *

**Author's Note: **It's 5:02 AM and I haven't slept . . . but I suddenly got past my writer's block a few hours ago and have been working on this ever since. I'm still trying to get the hang of how the ring affects people (and I'm taking a lot of liberties with it) but if it's completely unbelieveable I'll try very hard to improve it.

I didn't want Ron to be the one to try to take the Ring from Harry, but I thought having someone like Hermione do it was even less believeable, so . . .

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

-snarryvader81 (aka Anna)


	5. Harry Potter's Magic Ring

The Ring hit the middle of Albus Dumbledore's desk with a heavy thump.

The headmaster blinked at it several times as he heard an oily, sibilant voice hiss in his ear.

"_Albus, Albus . . . you want Ariana, don't you? You still feel so guilty about her death . . . and her life. I could bring her back, Albus. I could make it so that she is a proper witch, able to control her magic. Or . . . what about Gellert Grindelwald? You still love him, though he never returned it. And that hurt you so bad, didn't it, my little headmaster? And then you killed him . . . I could bring him back. Just pick me up and put me on, and he'll be back, and not only that - he'll return your affections. Just put me on, put me on . . ._

"Headmaster."

Severus Snape's voice cut through the fog that the Voice had created in Albus's mind.

The man tore his gaze away from the Ring and managed to smile at the dour potions professor. He held up a dish of candy.

"Lemon drop?"

His arms crossed over his chest, Snape stared at him humorlessly. He didn't respond. Behind him, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley both shuffled their feet and focused their eyes on the ground.

Albus's smile faded. "Okay, then," he said, setting the dish back down. He leaned back in his chair. "Well, Severus - what have Misters Potter and Weasley done this time?"

"They decided that my classroom was the perfect place to . . . engage one other in physical violence."

Albus raised an eyebrow and blinked. His blue eyes sought out Ron and Harry. "Boys?"

"I just asked him about his ring," said Ron, glaring at Harry.

Harry glared back, his face reddening in anger. "You tried to steal it, thief!" he shrieked.

Severus and Albus glanced at one another in confusion.

"I didn't try to steal it! I just wanted to touch it!"

"It's mine! My own! You didn't just want to touch it! You wanted to steal it!"

"Mister Potter! Mister Weasley!" said Snape sharply. "Calm down and let the Headmaster speak!"

Harry and Ron huffed and turned back to staring at the ground.

"Now . . . boys . . ." began Dumbledore. "This is just over a ring?" He went to pick the Ring up, but recoiled violently before his hand made contact.

"Albus?" asked Snape in concern.

Dumbledore steadied his trembling hands on his desk and slowly looked back at the Ring. The image of a lidless eye of fire was familiar to him somehow, though the Headmaster couldn't place it at the moment.

He titled his head, still staring at the Ring. The thing was definitely malignant, that much he could tell. Might it have belonged to Voldemort? Or maybe it was an artifact of some other, older Dark Wizard who was long dead. Could that strange vision of an eye be some type of obscure ward?

"What did you call the ring, Harry?" he suddenly asked.

Harry blinked. "What?"

Dumbledore tore his eyes from the Ring and looked at Harry. "The ring - you referred to it as . . . 'my own', I believe."

"Uh . . . yes," Harry said slowly. "I . . . did. Yes, I did."

"Why do you do that?"

Harry blinked confusedly. He was silent for a long moment before replying. "I don't really know, Headmaster. It just . . . pops into my head."

"Have there been any other names that you want to call it?"

Harry hesitated. "Well . . . when I first picked it up . . . I wanted to call it 'my precious'."

"My precious," muttered Dumbledore. Like the eye, that phrase seemed to ring a bell deep in his head. "Where did you get this ring?"

"I found it. In, uh, Grimmauld Place."

"There are a lot of dark artifacts there . . ." Dumbledore grabbed the ends of the chain and lifted the Ring into the air. "Why is it on a chain?"

"Huh?"

"Why don't you wear it on your finger?"

"It - it - well, when I put it on, it well . . ." Harry swallowed. "It turns me invisible."

Snape's eyes widened. "It _what_?"

"It turns me invisible," Harry repeated. "Like my invisibility cloak."

"Albus - it's a—"

"Does it have any other odd effects on you when you wear it?" asked Dumbledore, cutting Snape off.

"I don't know if it would be counted as an . . . effect on _me_, but when I put it on, my surroundings become . . . gray. Like shadows."

"Shadows?" Dumbledore stared at the Ring for a few more moments before looking back at the boys. "Twenty points each from Gryffindor for fighting, and another five each for disrupting class."

The boys's eyes widened at the large amount of points.

"Now go back to class. Now."

They turned to go, but Harry looked over his shoulder. "Can I have my ring back?"

"No, boy!" snapped Snape. "Now get out! I'll be back to class soon, and if anyone is doing anything but making their potion, they'll have detention for the rest of the year! Now _get out!"_

"Yes sir," said Harry, turning and following Ron out of the door.

Snape slowly sunk into one of the large comfy chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"A magic ring, Albus? A _magic ring_? How did one of those get here? They only exist in Middle Earth! We can't even _make them _with our type of magic!"

Albus shook his head, still staring at the Ring. "And if I'm caught up on my news, Middle Earth had a bit of a problem with their Rings. Something to do with a dark lord . . ."

"Magical Rings are dangerous if put in the wrong hands, Albus. What if . . ."

"Voldemort got a hold of this Ring?"

Snape flinched at the name but nodded.

"Well, we'll just make sure he doesn't. I'm going to talk to a contact of mine from Middle Earth. He's a Maia, an Astari Wizard, Gandalf the Grey. He might have some more information on this. For now . . ." Dumbledore opened his desk drawer and pulled out an ornately carved wooden box. He drew his wand, muttered a spell under his breath, and the top of the box opened. He discreetly took some objects out of the box and put them back in the drawer before dropping the Ring into the box. He said the spell again and it closed.

"There. Only I can open this box. So even if someone does steal it—" He glanced minutely at Snape with a small trace of distrust. "—they won't be able to get to the Ring."

"Good." Snape stood. "Now, I am sorry, Headmaster, but I have a class to get to. The little cretins have probably destroyed the room by now."

With a dramatic swish of robes, he was out the door and gone, leaving the Headmaster alone with his thoughts.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I live! Good God, its been so long since I've updated! I've had writer's block, computer problems, a long distance move, more computer problems, and just Darth Real Life to deal with.

But, I'm back, and hopefully I will start to update faster!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

-snarryvader81 (aka Anna)


End file.
